


Swiss Omega

by todaymyheartleapt



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/F, F/M, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 18:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todaymyheartleapt/pseuds/todaymyheartleapt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Mulder slowly came back to life in the hospital, she had rushed to replace the items she’d absentmindedly moved between their apartments while he was gone.  Her makeup, a gray t-shirt from his laundry hamper, a plant that was dying on his dark windowsill, two pairs of Vera Wang pumps.  But she’d forgotten, tucked into her jewelry box among trivialities she never wore, his black Omega.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swiss Omega

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work and I didn't use a beta, but I will in the future if people like this story and I write more.

Alexandria, 7:45am

They were in the middle of their morning routine. Bright sun shone through Mulder’s apartment windows even as smoke swelled above roof vents. It was bordering on bitter cold in Washington D. C. though it was well into April.

Thirty minutes earlier, Scully had woken up nauseous, a discomfort of pregnancy that came only occasionally in her third trimester. Mulder, with his arms wrapped around her from the front and his leg thrown over her hip, had convinced her to stay home. The only item on his agenda for the day was paperwork. He’d untangled himself from the warmth of Scully’s body to take a shower, smug about the stickiness in his groin from the night before. 

Scully had extricated herself from the sheets and pulled on well worn merino wool long underwear, impervious except for a few small holes that Mulder fell in love with the first time she’d worn the set in front of him. She’d had them since Stanford, when she and her friends would drive three hours out of the city on weekends to a cabin they rented in the snowy High Sierras. A middle-aged man who they never knew well asked them for 200 dollars a month and a promise that they’d take care of the upkeep. 

The cabin saw Scully’s one, deeply felt and never forgotten relationship with a woman. Close friend turned lover. Eternally tanned, freckled, sandy blonde, and wild as the woods they coexisted in. Capable of everything from wood splitting to songwriting. Scully was head over heels. They both endured the intensity and the tumultuousness for four years, then parted ways, with love and a mutually understood pledge to keep each other in their hearts. Scully had lost any residual longing somewhere between Mulder diagnosing her with mosquito bites and Mulder pushing inside of her for the first time.

While he was in the shower, she’d gone into the cold kitchen to make breakfast. First coffee, then hot cereal with jam and nuts. After they started sleeping together, Mulder expressed appreciation that Scully fed him well. She no longer worried that he’d scoff at her wholesome food choices.

As she sat down to stir cream into her coffee, Mulder called to her from the bedroom. 

“Scully? Was I wearing my black watch when I was…” 

He paused. Scully said nothing, understanding that he meant “when I was taken” but stricken into silence at the lack of warning that they’d be talking about his abduction. “I thought I was wearing my silver one, but I can’t find my black one.” She was humored, distressed, and embarrassed all at once. 

“No Mulder,” she said, “I have your watch.”

While Mulder slowly came back to life in the hospital, she had rushed to replace the items she’d absentmindedly moved between their apartments while he was gone. Her makeup, a gray t-shirt from his laundry hamper, a plant that was dying on his dark windowsill, two pairs of Vera Wang pumps. But she’d forgotten, tucked into her jewelry box among trivialities she never wore, his black Omega. Genuine Swiss, 23 jewels. The same price as two of his Armani suits. He lived a spartan life but he had an appreciation for refinement and quality, as did she.

Mulder walked into his small dinning room wearing half his clothes and his patented boyish smirk, unaware of Scully’s distress. 

“You have my watch?” 

Scully breathed in deeply and looked down at her cereal. 

“Yes, I was…” she sighed, “wearing it…while you were gone.” 

Mulder’s face fell. Scully sat still, watching him, and between them passed a lament for what his absence had done to her.

She stood and walked to him. She wrapped her arms around his middle and rested the right side of her face on his left pectoralis. He held her with all the emotion and tenderness he had ever felt for her. She had worn his watch. A vestment. The leather band soft and worn. Seven years on his wrist and seven months on hers. He tried to picture what Scully must have looked like wearing it. It was masculine. A contrast to her small wrist, her femininely tailored suits, and her red lips. He wondered if anyone had noticed. He hoped everyone had. She had marked herself with him. He felt an unexpected stir of lust below his waist.

“One morning, when I woke up here…” Embarrassment rose again, but she pushed it down. She knew Mulder wouldn’t judge her sentimentality.

“One morning I saw it on your dresser. And I didn’t even think. I just put it on. And I felt like…like you were sealed into me. You love that watch.” They both sighed. “And then I just kept wearing it.”

His hands slid up the thin wool fabric on her back to cup each of her shoulder blades. 

“You know, Scully, I wore your cross when you were taken.”

She pulled away to look him in the eye, shocked at the intimacy his action represented. They had known each other only a year at the time.

“I tried to give it to your mother but she told me to keep it. She told me to give it to you when I found you.” He shrugged. “So I wore it, to keep you with me…and to remind me what my purpose was. And I felt the same way, like you were sealed into me…like I was carrying you with me.” His voice had become low and gravelly.

Realization dawned. She would have become the new Samantha. 

“Would you have ever stopped looking for me?” Her eyes were expectant, unguarded.

He turned his head from side to side once. “No. Would you?”

“No.”

She rose to his mouth, meeting it firmly. She moved her hands under his t-shirt to clutch at his sides, and sucked his tongue rhythmically. Their baby pushed his foot against her lowest right rib. When she pulled away she noticed, with impish satisfaction, that she had turned Mulder’s eyes dark.

“I’ll get your watch from my apartment today. Our breakfast is hot.”

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Alexandria, 7:45pm

Scully was luxuriating in the bath. As she’d walked into the bedroom after dinner, she simultaneously pulled off her top and called to Mulder.

“Your watch is on the dresser.”

“The petite plunderer has returned the goods,” he teased.

He’d finished washing the bowls from their dinner then wandered into the bedroom. Scully splashed in the tub. He picked up his watch off the dresser and sat on the side of the bed, fingering the band. There was a new crease just beyond the first hole. He breathed deeply, contemplating the reaches of her love for him. He was sure, now. Something about being gone and returned had made him believe that Scully loved him with everything she had, unconditionally. 

The crease in the band would always be there. He’d have to remember not to touch any alien goo with his watch arm. He didn’t want the weird green shit eating through this important relic. He quietly shed two tears, then put the watch on his nightstand.

He opened the bathroom door to a wave of warm, eucalyptus scented steam. He had a fleeting memory of the first night he noticed her small bottles of essential oils in his medicine cabinet. 

In the candlelight, he could see that Scully’s cheeks were flushed. Pale belly and pink nipples rose above the water. The smallest glass of wine sat on the edge of the tub. 

“Hey, only European women drink wine when they’re pregnant,” he joked.

“Just a few sips, Mulder. Join me.” It wasn’t a question. He removed his clothes and settled in behind her, the hot water burning his cool skin. He leaned into her. They were recovering together. Maybe they would share his watch.


End file.
